


Nightmares

by TheWholeDamnTime



Series: Tumblr Prompts and AUs [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dark!Fitz, F/M, Nightmares, post 1x22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWholeDamnTime/pseuds/TheWholeDamnTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons struggles with nightmares. Post 1x22.</p><p>Inspired by http://fitz-loves-simmons.tumblr.com/post/95199263216/the-worst-idea-came-into-my-head-oh-my-god-what</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

She didn't sleep any more. 

Not that she advertised it, but each time she closed her eyes, Fitz's face flashed behind the closed lids. So instead she worked herself to death, slaving over chemical solutions and MRI scans until her mind was fuzzy with exhaustion. She knew the other members of the team were watching her. Coulson walked past the lab nearly every hour. May's watchful gaze rested on the biochemist as she performed Tai Chi on the loading ramp. Trip would stick his head in and ask if there was anything he could do like clockwork, every day at noon. 

Of all of the team, Skye was the most watchful. And the most prying. As they worked in the lab, the hacker would glance over her shoulder, keeping tabs on her friend. Questions would break silence too often for Jemma, and as they wore into the scientist, she could feel her getting closer and closer to the truth. To the secrets that she had buried ninety feet below sea level. To those that she had cast from her mind and from the plane.

She didn't sleep any more, and that wasn't going to change.

Simmons was at Fitz's side when she wasn't in the lab. Dull and listless, she slumped on a stool and watched the rise and fall of her partner's chest as the heart monitor beeped its consistent rhythm behind her. A cup of coffee, half-drained, sat on the table next to her. Slowly, almost painfully, she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. The caffeine was doing less and less for her as time went on.

She took another sip, long and slow, before placing it on the bedside table. Her partner was still, his only movement the slight rise and fall of his chest. Simmons found herself focused on the sounds of the monitors, her ears straining to hear each _beep_ and _whirr_. A noise interrupted the steady rhythms, a creak from door hinges and she drew her eyes away from Fitz's limp body to...

 _Fitz_.

She gaped at him, jaw hanging ever so slightly slack as he walked to the edge of the hospital bed and stared at himself. Looked at his ill, bed-ridden form with ice blue eyes. Ran a hand through his curls and let out a sigh before looking at her.

He gestured to his body with a loose hand. "You have to fix this, Simmons."

"I know, Fitz, it's just-" she let out a choked noise, cutting herself off. "I-I don't know how! There's no medical resear-"

"That's not acceptable!" Fitz's voice was almost a growl, painfully sinking her gut. "You need to fix this." He took a step forward, posture aggressive, and Simmons flinched. Tears began to trickle down the scientist's cheeks and her breath was hitching in her throat. 

"L-leo, I-"

"This is your fault!" 

Jemma couldn't breathe. "No..." she choked out through tears and a closing throat. "No..." she repeated, horrified at the thought. Her right hand moved to cover her eye, to try and wipe at the liquefied pain and guilt pouring from her.

"Yes, it is," he snapped, grabbing her wrist, causing her to glance into dark eyes, so dark with pain and rage. Pain and rage _she_ caused. _Her fault._

"Stop saying that, please Fitz, I-" His fingers tightened around her wrist and she let out a little whimper. A part of her agreed with him, took the pain as payback for what she had done to him. _All because of you._

"It’s all your fault, Simmons. Your fault. You’re the one to blame." The dark eyes were cutting into her now, knives of guilt and hurt carving into her flesh. The pain was almost literal, the aching, hollow hurt inside her chest tearing at her.

"Stop, stop, please, stop-" She was rambling, begging. No, she couldn't be responsible. She _couldn't_. His fingers wrapped around her other wrist, practically shaking her with rage.

This time Fitz was almost screaming. “Your fault, Simmons! _All of it!"_

"No- just- Fitz- _Leo, please-"_

**_"YOUR FAULT!"_ **

 

Jemma Simmons woke screaming.

 

"Simmons! Simmons, wake up!" Hands were still wrapped around her wrists, shaking her as she screamed and tried to pull away. "It's me! Calm down!" Lights glared in her eyes, the world a white blur around her.  _No, no, nononononono-_ "Simmons, it's me!" With a scream, Jemma ripped herself from the hands and flew backwards. Hitting a wall she scrambled back, into a corner and huddled there as her eyes adjusted. "Simmons, it's okay. _Breathe_..." Jemma wiped tears from her eyes, some of the blur and glare fading. Slowly, a kneeling figure emerged from the mist. _Skye_. Slowly, the biochemist stood, her back pressed to the wall and eyes flitting around the medical room. Her frantic breathing began to slow as she took in the variety of chairs the team had brought in, the consistent beeping of the monitors, Fitz's limp form under the sheets, and the rest of the team gathered around the doorway, eyes wide.

"Simmons, it's me. It's Skye. Are you okay?" The words were slow, as though she was approaching a wild animal. 

"Y-yes. It- It was just a nightmare. I'll be okay," she responded, brushing at the tear trails that stained her cheeks. She took a few more deep, steadying breaths and watched as Coulson motioned for everyone but Skye to leave. 

"You sure? You were..." The hacker let her voice trail off, brow furrowed with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?" Jemma sat back down, shaking her head. Silence as Skye settled in an adjacent chair. The air was still, the only sounds the light beeping of the machines that kept Fitz's fragile life within his body. Minutes passed as the two girls stared at the comatose engineer. Finally, Skye pulled the blanket of quiet from the room.

"You were screaming his name." Jemma glanced at the hacker, unsure of how to reply. Slowly, she traced her fingers over her wrists. She could still feel Leo's calloused hands pressed into her skin. "You were begging. I don't know what for, but you kept screaming 'no' and 'please'." The hacker looked at her friend. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, Simmons."

"It was Fitz." Skye blinked in surprise. The scientist played with the hem of her jumper, finger smoothing the soft fabric. "It-it was Fitz and he was- he was s-s-saying that-" A deep breath, trying to regain control of herself- "-that it was all- all of it was m-m-my f-f-fault." With that, Jemma bent forward, caught in a torrent of sobs that shook her whole body. 

"Oh, no, Simmons, it's not-"

_**"Yes it is!"** _

Skye froze. The outburst had her paralyzed in shock as Jemma continued to cry. "In- in the pod, I- he- we rigged a-a-a way t-t-to blow out the g-g-glass. And t-t-there was o-o-only one b-b-breath of a-a-air." Another spasm of sobs wrecked her, giving Skye a moment to take it all in. "I t-t-took it, a-a-and h-h-he should have, and h-h-he's only l-l-like this b-b-because of m-m-me."

"Simmons, did he-"

_"It's all my fault!"_

"Wait," the hacker sighed, putting a hand on Jemma's shoulder. "Did he tell you to take it?" Simmons stopped rocking back and forth as she turned the thought over in her mind. Then, a tiny nod. "Simmons, did he-"

"H-h-he t-t-told me to t-t-take it a-a-and t-t-that I was m-m-more than-" A soft sob cut her off again and realization hit Skye like a brick to the face.

"Jemma, did he tell you he loved you?" The sobs grew louder. _Crap_. Skye had never understood why people decided to tell people that they loved them right before they died. It was a load off of _their_ chest, sure, but a weight on the ones they told. How were you supposed to deal with missed opportunities without a way to make up for them? "Oh, Simmons."

"I- No, I- Oh, this is _all my fault!"_

"Simmons, listen. If he wanted you to make it, would he really blame you for his condition? He was obviously willing to give himself up for you." Simmons nodded slightly, but continued crying. "If anything, I'm sure he's thankful for you saving his life. We'll bring him back, I promise." Futile promise. Everyone knew that. And so instead, Skye reached over and wrapped her arms around her friend, letting her cry her guilt and worries onto her shoulder.


End file.
